


Elbereth's Touch

by stardustspirals



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I know that sounds strange with Eöl but bear with me, it's not as ridiculous as it sounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-02-03 21:12:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1757135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustspirals/pseuds/stardustspirals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before and during Aredhel, there was Iarnethril.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Elbereth's Touch

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a sweet little drabble I wrote for Eöl and an original character of mine, Iarnethril. For some background, she's a healer who got to know him in Doriath, and decided to follow him into Nan Elmoth when he left. My Eöl is a piece of work, but he can be sweet when he wants. I know it's short, but I wanted to post it anyway. I may make it part of a drabble collection in the future.

Iarnethril held Eöl gently, as though he were fragile, though she knew he was not. He had power behind his bony frame, and wiry muscle, and strength enough for solid smithwork. But he felt fragile to her somehow all the same. He snuggled into her, a a sleepy, automatic reaction to the contact. She sighed contentedly and relaxed into him, feeling how warm he was, how slender his hips were with her arm around them, the way the bones stuck out a little. 

_Grumpy old cat _, she thought as she began to stroke his hair, and chuckled to herself at the thought. He stirred at that and made a soft sound, and he suppressed a shiver at the feel of his breath at the hollow of her throat.__

__"Shhh, sleep," she murmured, continuing her stroking. His hair was fine and silky, deep black with whole thick streaks of silver shimmering in her hands. As if he'd been kissed by the light of the stars he so loved to walk in. Elbereth's touch, the Sindar called that, as if the queen of the Balar herself had laid her hand on the heads of those affected._ _

__Eöl grunted his assent and wrapped an arm around her to pull her tightly to him. As prickly a man as he was, he enjoyed touch, enjoyed pressing close, and could sometimes cling a little too hard. Iarnethril didn't mind._ _

__He'd been working himself too hard, straining the nerves in his back that were already prone to complaint, and the fatigue had led to an increase in his sensitivities. He'd fallen asleep in the bath earlier that night, and she'd had to wake him and put him to bed like his mother. And he'd neither minded nor been surprised when she climbed in with him._ _

__He knew of her feelings, but she tended not to speak of them, and he didn't like to address them directly. But occasionally, this would happen, and Iarnethril relished the opportunity for intimacy._ _

__"Sleep, you old fool," she teased him gently, but he had already drifted off again, his grip still tight around her body._ _


End file.
